Changing Everything
by Rynegade
Summary: Harry and Draco are on board the Hogwarts Express. Drarry tension. Maybe a one-shot? Maybe not.
1. Chapter 1: Changing Everything

Draco plopped himself heavily into a train car, rolling his eyes as his mother desperately tried to meet his gaze from the platform. This year would be no different than the rest. It would be hell wrapped into a neat castle shaped package. There was just one bright spot to it all, and he began smiling just thinking about it. Draco quickly bit his lip to ward off the growing pleasure in his eyes, as he was beginning to receive strange glances from Crabbe.

"Oi!" Draco snapped. "What are you looking at?" Crabbe quickly averted his gaze and left Draco to his imaginings. The whole thing was so frustrating. For years he had been pining for his attention and not once had Potter realized- had he realized… Draco shook the though off mid-sentence. It was too dangerous to go around longing for things he couldn't have. Things he shouldn't want. Feelings that could never be reciprocated. He blinked back tears and looked up at the ceiling, attempting to steady his shaking jaw. Draco silently cursed Potter for being so thick headed. It was as if he flaunted his endless prizes just to spite him. That idiot Cho, and now Ginny. Each time they passed by hand in hand, Draco could swear that he saw Potter looking back at him, with some unidentified emotion behind his circular spectacles.

On a good day, he could swear that it was longing. The same longing he felt, but usually denied, hidden far in the inner recesses of his heart. It could just be challenge, Potter just trying to show off. But why would he show off if he didn't care? Usually, Draco accepted that it was hatred. Pure, undenied hatred. It would be a more than obvious emotion to feel for someone who called your closest friends vile names and cursed them. In all reality, Draco was just a small child or an ignored puppy, pining for attention. Even negative attention was better than nothing. That was the reason for his continued tormenting. It was so obvious. Potter was just too thick to see.

Draco could feel his heart go soft just at the thought of his name. What he would give to run his hands through that eternally messy hair. To rub up against the softness of his skin. To take those infernal glasses off of his face and get a good, long look straight into those emerald eyes. To rid him of those pesky robes that made him all the more attractive. To get him into an empty room… He shook his head, scolding himself for entertaining fantasies of what could never be. What should never be. It was all so, so wrong, but it was what he wanted most in the world. What he would give up anything to have. Draco gazed forlornly out the window as the train began to roll out of the station.

Speak of the devil. Potter came striding down the aisle, knocking into several people as he jostled with his trunk. His face was adorably flushed, and his glasses were askew. Draco silently hoped for them to fall off so that he would have an excuse to go see him during the ride. Nimbly, Potter contorted his body to avoid an opening compartment door, and, as luck would have it, his precariously perched glassed flew off of his nose, landing right at Draco's feet. He hastily scooped them up and shoved them into his pocket, beaming with good fortune. The odds were definitely in his favour today. Potter continued to move down the aisle to his friends, too flustered to notice that he couldn't see a thing. When he noticed they were gone, Draco would swoop in to save the day. He would be so grateful, and Draco was feeling so confident, that maybe, just maybe, he might make his move.

Harry entered the compartment where his two best friends along with Neville and Luna sat. "Where you been mate?" Ron said from a mouth full of licorice twists, so it came out garbled. Hermione was quick to reprimand him, and even through her scolding, Harry could see the love in her eyes. He felt a sharp stab of pain that he couldn't be that straightforward about what he felt-and who he felt it for. Ron gave Harry a funny look and prodded him in the side.

"Earth to Harry?"

"Sorry. Just got held up by all the people and such." He shoved his trunk up onto the racks and began to sit down when he heard a shriek from beneath him. Quickly, he stood up as he saw a ginger cat streak as far away from him as it could. Crookshanks.

"Blimey! Where'd your glasses go?" Harry realized that Neville was right and wondered how he hadn't noticed before. He had been too lost in his fantasies to notice that he couldn't see a thing. He cursed and stood up to go search for them. Hermione stood up as well, offering to come along. Harry waved her off, insisting that he could do fine on his own. Just as he was sliding open the door, another figure appeared on the other side. Malfoy. Harry could feel his heart speed up and hoped that the others couldn't see his face heat up. Ron was sitting tentatively on the edge of his seat, ready to back Harry up if he was needed. However, this time, it was just Malfoy, no Crabbe or Goyle in sight. He waved him down with his hand, giving assurance that he could handle this on his own.

Harry stepped out and slid the door shut behind him, moving to lean against the wall just to the left of it. "It's unusual to see you without your cronies, eh Malfoy? Did they finally get tired of you and your ugly face?"

"You're too easy to take on by yourself, _Potter_." Malfoy spit out his name disgustedly. Harry physically shrunk away from the malice of it but quickly regained his composure.

"What're you down here for anyway? Looking for your pig nosed girl friend?" It took all of Harry's effort to keep up these retorts, to act as if hatred was the only emotion he could ever feel for this…this thing. Draco looked disturbed and Harry felt pleased and angry at himself. He had to keep up his façade, but heaven knew the toil it took on him.

"She's not my girlfriend." Draco said quietly. He angrily pulled the glasses out of his pocket and tossed them into the air. As Harry fumbled for them, Draco turned on his heel and stormed off. Harry gazed pathetically after him, finally accepting that it would always be this way. There was nothing between them that could ever change. They were set into an internal battle, locked in a combat of wit and jealousy. Harry could hope all he wanted, but the truth was this-Malfoy would always hate him and there was nothing he could do about it. Harry slipped on his glasses and wiped at his wet eyes before finally retreating back into the compartment, but not with one final glance back towards Malfoy where he stood in the hall, doing the same.

Draco froze as Potter's gaze met his own. They both stood frozen for a few long moments that felt like an eternity. In it he could feel all of the tension over the years, the arguments and the fights, the spells and cruel looks. And then, it all melted away. For once, Potter's eyes reflected exactly what Draco was feeling, and he could bear the separation no longer. He strode quickly down the aisle, not caring that he was about to change everything, not caring that he was about to do something that he could ever take back. Draco stopped just short of Potter, fighting not to second or third guess himself. Potter stepped away from the door and closed the gap between them. They were standing close, oh so close, that he could see the faint smudges on his glasses.

Draco was looking down at the floor, suddenly the shyest he had ever been in his life. Potter gently took his chin in his hand and tilted up his head so that they were looking eye to eye. Draco had to lean his neck back slightly in order to match his gaze. Since when had Potter been taller than him?

"Why did you come by yourself Malfoy?" Potter whispered.

"I wanted to be with you alone, Pott-," Malfoy stammered. "Harry. I wanted to be with you, Harry." Harry sucked in a deep breath in surprise, and Draco feared that he had just scared him away. But Harry just put his lips next to his ear and whispered, "All you had to do was ask."

Draco suddenly gathered back his courage and took a bold move, gently pinning Harry against the wall with his body. Their hands were intertwined, so Harry was completely vulnerable to him, and yet, he had never felt so hesitant. Slowly, ever so slowly, Draco pulled Harry's glasses down the bridge of his nose and stuck them into his back pocket. He stared intently into his eyes, and this close, Draco could see that they were not actually emerald like how they appeared when obscured behind his frames. They were the color of new spring grass or a fresh clover, with a rim the color of the sea lining the outer edge of the iris. There were flecks of gold lining the outside of his pupil, as if a fairy had sprinkled glitter into his eyes as he slept. Draco was astounded that he was finally allowed to get this close to this boy he had pinned after for so many years, that he was convinced it must be a dream. He leaned back, and Harry pulled him back with a slight frown.

"Be mine Draco. Let us be us."

"We can't. No one will-"

"Even if it can't last, just be mine right now. Forget about them. Just be here with me. Please." Draco couldn't stand the pleading. He forced himself to forget it all. To just let him be his, even if it could just be for now. In response, Draco raised his lips to Harry's, and in that moment, it was easy to imagine nothing but him. It was better than he could have ever imagined. Then Draco pulled away, and Harry frowned once more.

"Not here. Not now. I'll talk to you at school." Draco handed back the glasses and turned on his heel. Harry walked down the opposite way from his… enemy? Friend? Boyfriend? And was met with a concerned Hermione.

"What was that all about? Just forget him, he's a prat." Harry mumbled something intelligible about same old Malfoy and slumped into a seat by the window. Hermione continued to babble on about the nerve of some people and narcissism behind him. Never had he wanted such a paradoxical thing-for the train to travel faster and slower at the same time. Faster, so that he could get over a confrontation with Dra-Malfoy, he reminded himself. And slower, so that he wouldn't have to. Either way, they were changing everything.


	2. Chapter 2: If You Only Knew

Above them loomed the omnipresent gates of that garish school- Hogwarts. It had been a miserable journey there. Draco was continually beating himself up for being such a git. He had had the audacity to go up to Potter and then he just…what…walked away? Draco threw his head back against the carriage seat and groaned, hands fisting in his hair.

Crabbe and Goyle shot him a strange glance, but didn't dare confront him. It was the benefit of having such a dimwitted posse. A short ways behind him, Draco could see Potter gaping at the thestrals, and a ghost of a smile worked its way onto his face. They had always been visible to Draco, but he had had the presence of mind even as a young boy to keep his mouth shut about anything that would set him apart. School had and always would be about fitting in. Memories began flitting through his mind about his and the Golden Boy's first school year together. The recollection was enough to make him feel sick. How different things might be if Potter had only said yes. Even then, he knew that Harry Potter was someone he would be pining after for the rest of his life. He was more than a participation trophy. Potter was the grand prize.

Draco shook his head, forcing off ghosts of ages past. He sat in solemn silence for the remainder of the ride, sending off waves of hostility towards anyone who even dare breathe his air. Without realizing it, Draco was suddenly all alone. The rest of the students were striding purposefully through the cool night air, robes pulled up tight against their bodies. As Draco moved to climb down, he was suddenly met with an all too familiar face.

"Need a hand?" Draco lightly took Harry's hand in his own, a tremor so slight that only it was barely noticeable. Their grasp lingered before they separated, and Draco shot Potter a sideways glance as they commenced walking to the main doors.

"What in the name are you doing back here Potter? Shouldn't you be off skipping along with your merry little friends?" Draco's tone was bitter, and Potter looked a bit taken back. He quickly regained his composure and fired back.

"Well, you were the one who wanted to talk to me. Maybe your memories are being tainted by the fumes from all that product you coat your hair with." Draco ran a hand self-consciously through his hair and scoffed.

"Tainted? I can tell you've been hanging around that mud-blood Granger." Potter let his quirky façade fade and stepped out in front of Draco to face him head on.

"Let's drop the charades." He said quietly. "We both know that something happened back there and we can't just ignore it."

"Yes we can." Draco retorted. "Because it didn't. Did you honestly think anything could come out of that? That it could work?" By now, his words could barely be heard at all. "As far as I'm concerned, nothing out of the ordinary happened on that train ride. I just…" Draco trailed off, clenching his eyes shut and biting his lip. "Look Potter. I just wanted to say goodbye. Because I know for certain this is the year I'm going to die."

Potter's eyes visibly widened in shock and he pulled away, making them both embarrassingly aware of how close they had been.

"You don't just go around saying things like that. Stop it. Stop saying things that we both know aren't true." Draco just shook his head sadly and continued walking. Potter grabbed onto his sleeve and placed his lips next to the other boy's ear. "We could be together you know. It doesn't have to be all of this rivalry." Potter's eyes were wet and sorrow filled, and Draco almost broke, knowing how much he was about to hurt his beloved.

"No." He said harshly. "Just stay away from me and forget everything about tonight." He wrenched his arm away and began moving quickly away. Draco swallowed a lump in his throat and knew that he would regret this, even though he was doing the right thing.

"What are you so afraid of?" Potter called after him.

Oh, my dear Harry, Draco thought. If you only knew.


	3. Chapter 3: Green Apples

Draco strode past the first years lined up outside the Great Hall. After ascending a few staircases he came to a blank stretch of wall. When he reached it, Draco anxiously paced three times in front of it, willing the door to appear. It didn't. He pulled at his hair in frustration and tried again. And again. He pounded the wall. He screamed. He cursed. Finally, Draco gave up and sank to the floor, head resting on his knew. His body was shaken with silent sobs. Even when he just needed to get away, he couldn't. The whole world was against him. The walls stared cruelly down at him, seemingly mocking his pain. He was trapped in a vice of his own mind.

With a flick of his wand, Draco turned an ink pot in his bag into an apple. He tossed it from hand to hand, grateful for anything that could be a distraction. The first bit was crisp and icy, and Draco relished in the sour bite. It was a good metaphor for life, he thought. Things could be good but still hurt, and what you bit bit back. A long forgotten memory floated to the surface of his mind, triggered by the aroma.

Five or six year old Draco was sitting at the kitchen counter, his father's back facing him as he rummaged through the fruit bowl. He eventually turned around, grasping a plump Granny Smith in either hand.

Lucius leaned onto the counter and braced himself on his forearms. He held his prize aloft between the two.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked.

"Yes," Replied Draco, eager to please his father. "It's an apple."

"That's right. But this is a very special kind of apple. Do you know why?" Draco slowly shook his head.

"This apple has special powers." He whispered. "Whenever you're lonely or afraid, all you have to do is eat a green apple, and I'll be there watching over you, making sure that you're okay." Lucius reached over and took little Draco's chin in his hand. "Everything will turn out okay." An ominous tone clung to the air between them. Even at a young age, there was understanding beyond his years in Draco's eyes. His father tossed him an apple and walked past him, ruffling his hair.

"Eat your apple and get on to bed. Sleep well all right?" Draco nodded and took a bite.

"I love you Daddy." Lucius paused with one foot up the stairs and smiled sadly.

"I love you too, Draco."

Draco wondered if his father would ever need to eat a green apple himself, or if he was willing to show the weakness.

Draco stared numbly down at the core in his hands. All these years and he hadn't know why he got cravings for a green apple when he was down. Every memory he had of his father from when he was young had him acting cold and distant from his son, as if his life would be better off is Draco was never born. The man he had just seen acted nothing like the other memories he had, and Draco puzzled over what had changed. His father would just be added to the list of people him confused him beyond belief. He would be second. Right after Potter.

Harry sat in the Great Hall, absent mindedly clapping as new students were sorted. Next to him, rom was grumbling about how hungry he was. Hermione shot him a dirty look and refocused her gaze to where Dumbledore had begun giving his speech. Over at the Slytherin table, Draco was oddly absent. Usually, he would be wildly mocking Harry's latest endeavor, making a spectacle of himself in the process. Harry refocused his gaze to Dumbledore, his mind off on several different tangents. As the food finally appeared on the tables, Harry's scar began to burn with a furious intensity. His mind was filled with visions of death, and oddly enough, green apples


End file.
